Disclaimer: I do not own MIB, or The Princess Diaries. Half the story goes to Crazynut2002, who thought it up with me, and this fic only exists because I'm part of the Freaky Fic Project, 2002. Feel free to read, laugh, cry, do a jig, and review.

A/N Hey people, sorry if this is confusing, and I make tons of mistakes or something, because I'm kinda tired. I slept kinda late... or early, depending on how you look at it. This takes place from Princess in Love, or Third time Lucky, but Mia doesn't go to Genovia.

Warning: Absolutely nothing to do with Mia. This is for the Lars fans... are there any out there?

Chapter 2- Princess graces a concert
I've never seen her change so suddenly from ecstatic, to downcast. She did, though, when Michael told her that he couldn't go to the West Life concert with her tomorrow. He's a good boy, and his reason was very sensible- that people might think thoughts if a princess agreed to come to a concert, and brought along a date.

Of course, the Princess hadn't cared, but again Michael was right- her future consort would definitely care. I've been around the princess long enough to know what she was thinking- I don't want some other escort, Michael. Can't you see I only want you? But I think Michael knew, too. After all, they had both finally admitted their feelings to each other. What a relief, too! I've never seen a boy and Princess so in love with each other, and yet so...shy! If I were like them, I probably wouldn't have three wives by now. Which, actually, would be a good thing. They all nag so much!

But, anyway, the Princess looked disappointed, and went, Then she mumbled some excuse, and turned to go home. Before following her, I returned Michael's sad look with as reassuring a look as I could muster. Then I followed her back home, easily matching her steps with my own. I stayed five steps behind her, as she'd told me.

When we got back to her home, she busied herself by writing in her diary all day. I took a peep, and it was all about how she thought Michael didn't love her after all. Oh, please. No, not that again! To think I might have to go through all the sad puppy looks again, all those journal entries, and all those notes with Michael. It's too much. And I, as a bodyguard, am not really supposed to interfere with the personal life of my charge... But still!

I've seen more pining and sad looks than a guy can bear. Someone have pity on me! I think an exception should be allowed in this case.

~The next morning~

I picked (a rather disgruntled) Mia up. I knew she wanted to cancel, but she couldn't since she'd already told the press that she was attending the concert. The limo definitely had its fair share of silence during that trip.

We were hassled to the seats of honour, and when everyone had finished making a fuss over Mia, she turned to grumble to me. I don't even like Westlife, Lars! Well! And that is why you agreed to attend? Mia shot me a rather nasty look. She muttered.

And Michael, I thought, but did not say. Instead, I gave her the obvious reaction. Aha! Now everything's clear.

I could tell Mia was resisting the urge to laugh. It felt good to make her smile, at least. She was getting so upset over Michael declining her invitation.

Just then, the lights dimmed, and A figure stepped onto the stage. Ah! I thought. So he's the Westlife dude. Though I must say he's got me stumped. What kind of guy would call himself Westlife? Being a bodyguard, my thought naturally ran to the more dangerous kind of guy. I tensed, and prepared myself for whatever was coming up.

~In the past, half an hour before the Westlife concert.~

J got up to the group of singers, smiling at them and asking of autographs. The Westlife members seemed rather uncertain, -no one was supposed to be backstage other than the crew and band members- but Kian smiled, and got out a piece of paper. He signed it, shook J's hand, and gave the autograph to him. J did not take it. Thankyou, but I meant a photo of all of you, and your autographs on the back.

The members (A/N I know nothing about Westlife, it's my cousin who likes them, so I'm just using them as dummies, no offence to Westlife lovers) automatically got into a group photo position, and smiled as J pulled out a rather interesting camera, a metal, tube-like device.

J put his shades on, and counted down. A bright flash caused the band members to blink in a rather foolish manner. You all need a good break. Kian, you had better get rid of those eye bags, all of you except Nicky need a better sense of humour, and you guys are seriously lacking in fashion. As he saw the effect beginning to wear off, he hastily added, Oh, and go spend time with your family.

The band members stared at each other, then all hurried into the different directions in which their homes lay. J checked the time. Five minutes until the show started. Breathe in....out. And in....and out. Checking his nerves, he got up on stage and began the show of a lifetime.